Verisimilitude
by silentlyatnight
Summary: After turning Lavender down, Ron finds Hermione before Harry does and before she conjures the flock of birds. But then, she doesn't need to. Her words are just as cutting, and she unleashes them against him as she would a bunch of enraged animals.


QLFC Beater 1: "The bounce has gone from his bungee." — Wallace and Gromit: A Close Shave  
-[word] Foregoing  
-[quote] 'You know what they say about truth and the appearance of truth being opposites.' — The Power, Naomi Alderman  
wc: 1080

Thanks to Aya for beta'ing!

A/N HBP alternate scene, mix of book- and movie-verse and my imagination, but the setting is taken from the movie.

* * *

Verisimilitude

* * *

"You mean nothing to me!" Hermione's words fill the hallway, bounce against the ceiling, and hit their intended target, Ron, right where he stands.

Rooted to the spot, he can't run away as he'd like to. His first instinct is to raise his arms to cover his face.

"Nothing, do you hear me, Ronald Weasley? And your presence—" She stops for the briefest moment, her smile bitter, twisted, as she searches for more ammunition. "I'm indifferent to you. _Indifferent_." She repeats it in case he doesn't understand—or perhaps to convince herself, imprinting on her lips mean things that he imagines must clash with her pounding heart.

Based on their foregoing interactions, Ron's surprised she hasn't moved to hit him yet. But then, she doesn't need to. Her words are just as cutting, and she unleashes them against him as she would a bunch of enraged animals, bidding them to trample him, hurt him more than a bruised arm would.

And in fact—

"Indifference is all I feel for you. I don't care what you do, who you kiss, who you love… I don't care." Her words fall on the floor to creep up Ron's spine in the form of ice-cold chills. "I don't care who you smile at, who you belong to."

Hermione's face twitches, trapped behind a mask that's not her own. It's easy to fall for it, though, to believe her coldness even as she seethes and Ron's heart burns.

_She's not evil_, Ron thinks, but he can't help but ask, "Don't you?" His wisp of voice echoes through the hallway. He's uncertain, doesn't know what to trust.

Her "No!" is like a slap.

"I never want to see you again—"

That must be true.

"—I don't want to touch you, don't want your future. I don't want you and _just you_, Ronald." It's like a flaming rain—it doesn't exist, but that doesn't make it less hurtful.

Ron looks at the stairs behind her. "Then what are you doing here?" He balls up his fists. If she doesn't back away, he won't either. "What's the point of your words?"

Hermione falls silent. Her weariness and stillness are the truest things about her tonight.

"You're a bad liar," Ron says—guesses.

"I've been lying to myself for all my life." Her voice is soft, like she's talking to herself. "—even now. I can't, I can't."

"I don't understand, Hermione." Ron'd like to scream, punch something, but that's just not possible because the sighing girl in front of him is Hermione, and when it comes to her, he's never been able to really do what he wants. It's always been about straining himself almost to the breaking point, until he's one inch away—almost, almost, _almost_… And then, it'd all stop, just for him to be taken back to square one. It's a neverending struggle.

"I don't understand, either," Hermione says—and isn't that a relief?

Then, she goes on, "I wish I could understand why, despite not wanting any of it, I can't help but desire this." She shakes her head. "I tried every way to kick you out of my head, to not want you, to behave like I didn't. It never worked and it never made my feelings less strong. I guess the appearance of truth is not enough to make something true, after all."

Ron is tense, once again about to reach out.

"It's killing me," she says.

"What do you want from me?" he asks. "You're our know-it-all, the one with an answer for everything."

Hermione's smile is so little he almost misses it. Anyone else would. "Books! But you're the strategist."

Ron feels his ears grow hot and knows he's almost there. Almost. "Maybe there's no solution this time. We struggle to get away from and be close to each other every time. It's like a bloody dance, made up of painful recoils and terrible forward thrusts."

"There's always been something that unites us and something—" She gives him a pointed look. "—that divides us."

She's still angry, but he won't shoulder the blame alone this time. "Neither of us is meant to be fixed, immutable. We have to meet halfway."

Each of them needs to forego their last shreds of pride.

"We are elastic cords, Ron. It's like you said; we'll keep bouncing back and forth until we break." She crosses her arms and closes off, the epitome of indifference. "There's no other way."

Ron now knows that never has the appearance of truth been farther from the truth, so he takes a step forward. "I didn't mean to fall for you, either."

"Didn't you?"

"No, but it happened. And I can't reverse it, no matter how much effort I put into it."

Hermione locks her eyes on him for a painfully long time. "_Liar_." There may be either a sob or a laugh hidden behind that word.

As she seems to relax, Ron walks even closer until he can touch her, hold on to her with the same desperation as someone who has just stepped over the edge and can't get a glimpse of the bottom. He leans forward and kisses her. It's urgent and more of a brush of lips than anything else as they're both afraid to get hurt, but it's nothing he'll regret.

She clings to him. "What's going to happen now that the cord has broken?"

"I wouldn't say broken. It's more like the bounce has gone from our bungees." He smiles. Then, because he's so happy he feels like he's floating, he says, "And we're suspended in mid-air."

That she doesn't ask what he's talking about vouches for the fact the she feels the same. She smiles back and her eyes—Ron's so close that they blend together into a blazing and determined pool—reflect nothing but truth.

"Never try to lie to me again," she says.

Ron could say the same, call her out on her own lies, but he can only see Hermione in his arms as his heart is chanting _'lovelovelove'_ so he restrains himself. He doesn't want to start this elastic thing all over again now that it finally stopped for good. Yet, he won't leave her the satisfaction to have the last word—that's a pleasure he won't forego—so he smirks and says, "I didn't mean to succeed."

There's no real force behind her hit this time, and Ron thinks that from now on, they may continue bouncing as in sync as their hearts are. Hand in hand. It's a nice thought.


End file.
